Harwyn Harclay
Appearance A giant of a man, Harwyn stands at 7'8", with a broad chest, limbs like tree-trunks, and a false right hand made of iron. The hair on his head is dyed light blond, although he has left his beard untouched, allowing it to remain a shade of light auburn. History Born the youngest son of Torghen Harclay, himself the younger brother of Lord Hugo Harclay. Harwyn was abnormally large from the day he came into this world. In fact, the strain of giving birth to him was enough to kill his mother, the daughter of some minor clan. This earned the young boy the hatred of his father and elder brothers, who blamed him for the woman's death. There is little glory in store for the second son of a second son, much less a fourth son, and so Harwyn was paid little mind as he grew older. Though even as a child, his appetite was monstrous and his strength comparable to that of men decades older than him. So the others refrained from bothering him, leaving him to be raised primarily by the warriors and sworn swords serving the clan. Learning to wield a two-handed warhammer at the age of nine, Harwyn quickly became the terror of the training ring, beating out his brothers and cousins with ferocious ease. While this only led to Torghen and his sons shunning the boy to a greater degree, Lord Hugo saw the makings of a great warrior in him and took Harwyn under his wing to be raised alongside his own son Matthos. Despite having two years on Harwyn, he was a kind, gentle child, good at talking and making friends, but a pitiful fighter. He became fast friends with his outcast cousin, and the two boys grew quite fond of each other. Hugo, ever the pragmatic ruler, raised Matthos to be the face of the clan, sending him on diplomatic missions to the First Flints and the Norreys, as well as beyond the mountains to visit Winterfell and Deepwood Motte. Harwyn was raised in parallel as the strong arm of the Harclay's, fighting against wildling and Ironborn raiders, while occasionally joining raids against the other clans. Here his aptitude for battle truly began to shine, showing himself to be a devastating warrior, if not the greatest commander. At three-and-ten he killed his first man, bludgeoning a warrior of the Frozen Shore to death with his warhammer, claiming the man's armour and bronze armrings for himself. His reputation as the greatest of Clan Harclay's fighters soon began to spread, and by the time Harwyn reached the age of five-and-ten, many clansmen flocked to see if the tales of him were true. The old warriors heralded him as the son of a giant from beyond the wall, the young warriors rushed to fight him, and quaff ale with him after they inevitably lost. Not to mention all the maidens that managed to find their way into his bed. This renown was a double-edged sword, however, as many began to whisper in shadowed circles that it should Harwyn, not Matthos, that claimed the title of "the Harclay" after Hugo's death. However Matthos paid these rumours little mind, and while his father warned that he should keep an eye on his warrior cousin, the two remained close friends. This friendship was shattered in 282 AA when Harwyn was discovered abed with Shara Flint, the daughter of Donnel "the Flint" Flint, and Matthos' betrothed. Enraged at the betrayal of his cousin and friend, Matthos foolishly challenged Harwyn to a duel. The fight was short. Though he could not refuse Matthos' challenge without leaving a stain on his honour, he did not intend to kill the man, instead merely shattering his sword hand with a well-placed blow from his warhammer, and letting him yield. Unfortunately, this did not have the desired effect. Matthos' hand, now useless, was poorly amputated by a woods witch paid to see to his injuries. This improper procedure, lead to the wound festering and becoming infected, leading to Matthos' death. Now with the dark shadow of kinslaying hovering above his head, Harwyn was exiled. Now away from his familiar mountains for one of the first times in his life, he wandered the North as a lone warrior, selling his skills as a warrior for food, a roof above his head, a bed, and a girl to warm it. In 286 AA, after a number of years wandering, Harwyn found himself at Karhold, where he found service as a sworn sword of Lord Harrion Karstark. Here he met the young Prince Cregan Stark, two years his junior, and became fast friends with the man, sharing with him a love of women and battle. Their bond was so great, that when Cregan found himself exiled as Harwyn once had been, he followed the Black Wolf to Essos alongside a number of other Northmen. Their escapades across the Narrow Sea were many. Beginning as sellsails with the Wolves on the Wind, then sellswords with the Company of the Cat, then as an independent band. All was the much the same for Harwyn as it had been in the North. Wine, women, and his hammer were his constant companions. In Cregan's service, he smashed in the heads of every manner of colourful men. Pirates, Dothraki, other mercenaries, all fell prey to the swing of his maul. However, Harwyn did finally meet a man, or rather, a weapon that he could not get the best of. A young Volantene commander of the Blackscales, with a shimmering blade. First fighting Cregan, who was clearly the superior duelist, the Volantene's valyrian steel managed to cut right through the Black Wolf's claymore. Joining the fray to keep his friend safe, Harwyn helped Cregan escape relatively unscathed, although he himself would not be quite so lucky. After a brief exchange, the Volantene cut his maul in twain, severing his right hand in the process and leaving him maimed. Only by sheer luck did a few of his fellow mercenaries manage to drag Harwyn away. Soon enough he found himself in the same situation that he had put Matthos in, his stump beginning to turn green with infection. Were it not for the intervention of a passing Red Priest who managed to burn away the rot, he surely would have died. This Red Priest, a Lyseni by the name of Tregar, became Harwyn's companion over the next several months as he made his recovery, helping him mitigate the pain of his maiming. During this time the Priest also taught him much of R'hllor and his teachings, telling him of the Great Other, and the eternal struggle between day and night. For a main raised amid the harsh snows and deadly chill of the Northern Mountains, these tales struck true, and by the time Tregar left him, half a year after their first meeting, Harwyn had taken the Red God as his own. When Cregan himself was saved by the Red Priest Vaario, the truth of Harwyn's new beliefs only seemed more evident. The King is dead, long live the King. With the death of King Torrhen Stark, a bastard and a usurper was placed on the throne of the North, passing over a great, true-blooded man, who would make a fine king. Departing from Braavos, and soon enough arriving back at Karhold, Harwyn was with Cregan as he rallied his forces and made Jeyne Umber his wife. Serving as a loyal sworn sword to his new King and Queen. As the civil war began in earnest, Cregan gave his trusted friend the task of guarding Queen Jeyne, not the most glorious job, but one he took on with humility. Category:Northman